


Embracing A Starlit Fate

by Tiara_of_Sapphires



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Kid Fic, Pregnancy, Tros fix-it, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiara_of_Sapphires/pseuds/Tiara_of_Sapphires
Summary: Ben believed himself to be selfless, removing himself from Rey’s life as she slept on Exegol. She would think he was dead and could move on with her life in a post-war galaxy.That choice he made would only catch up with him.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 9
Kudos: 198
Collections: Reylo Charity Anthology: Volume 2, Reylo Hidden Gems





	Embracing A Starlit Fate

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission for the Reylo Charity Anthology! It was truly a worthwhile project to work on and I was glad to be a part of it!
> 
> Enjoy!

They both lived. To Ben, that was a tragedy.

He cradled Rey’s sleeping form to his chest. She breathed in his arms, full of the life he had passed onto her. He had crawled out of that hole in the ground, broken and bleeding, to find Rey cold, eyes unseeing. The grief of the loss, so painful and permanent, choked him with tears even though her life had returned to her battered form.

She had died. There had been a horrible void left in the universe: an injustice that had to be fixed. Rey had destroyed Palpatine, the great Disharmony in the Force and instead of standing tall in her victory, with generations of Jedi holding her up, she fell, lifeless. She had won and gotten vengeance for the thousands of Jedi that had come before her. Even with all of their power and wisdom, they couldn’t keep _their champion_ alive.

It had been a rightful exchange: his life for hers. He had been ready to die from the moment Rey dealt a potentially fatal blow in the ruins of the Death Star. The fatigue was so piercing that he was sure his heart would stop, despite the machinations in the Force that kept them both alive.

His bones ached to lie down next to her and sleep. He ought to awaken with her and accept his fate, his future beyond this war.

He couldn’t. He didn’t deserve it.

He was supposed to give her everything, every part of himself, even his life. After Crait, he didn't see an existence for him after the war. Now, he remained, the enemy defeated, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

The First Order—the Final Order—burned in a thousand systems. The Jedi Order was a cold pile of ash and a sleeping woman. He belonged in that same fire, those same ashes, and yet, he lived.

Sucking in a breath and setting aside his bleeding heart, he gently lowered Rey back to the ground. The Resistance lived and Palpatine’s sycophants had been snuffed out; no threat would come to her in the minutes before she awoke.

He brushed his fingers over her cheeks and the soft bow of her lips. He wanted to clean away the dust and blood that clung to her skin. He wanted to hold her when she wept and listen to her speak when she recounted her loneliness and the newly-found isolation in her heritage.

He couldn’t.

Ben gritted his teeth as he forced himself to his feet; he knew how to stand after being brutalized. A mixture of fear and pride kept him faced forward, but the broken bones and bruises made the walk to his starfighter agonizing. It could almost distract him from the pain of leaving Rey alone.

He staggered to his ship, which remarkably survived the debris that rained from the sky. He went into hyperspace in a mindless autopilot and could feel hollow as the distance grew between him and Rey.

He felt her life, but nothing more. Their bond had snapped in twain, used as fuel to give Palpatine life, as short as it was. Whether she missed him, whether she loved him, he would never know.

Tears still leaked over his cheeks and he let them dry on his skin. To acknowledge them would make him break and he would rush back into her arms.

If he had his way, he would never see her again. He would only get glimpses of her in the holos and Resistance propaganda. She would be able live her life, free from those who caused her suffering. His role in her story ended the moment her life returned to her. There was nothing more he could give her, except for a clean, quiet exit.

He knew enough about the galaxy to know where to dump a starfighter and disappear. Now, he would only look forward.

* * *

Naboo was even more beautiful than what the holos could convey. The mild air and the trees and waterfalls made it a paradise.

Word of the Resistance’s victory had spread through the galaxy by the time he arrived in Theed. There was no mention of him, only that the Final Order’s leadership had been destroyed in the final battle.

What the galaxy focused on was how the Resistance, their allies, and the last Jedi stood in victory. The news-holos were full of mythologies and sensational accounts of the Battle of Exegol. Proud images of the Resistance darlings were slapped over every blank wall and every idle screen. It turned his stomach at how empty Rey’s eyes looked in the rare images that were snapped of her. Ben couldn't dwell on it too much, though his heart yearned.

He cheated his way through Theed, grabbing enough money to rent a tiny space in the outskirts of town, and he prodded at the mind of a popular restaurant owner just enough to convince him that he _did_ need another server on his staff.

It was a meager living, but it was anonymous. He could breathe and sit in the park without real fear for his life. Nobody would search for a dead man, especially not in a place like this. Plus, anyone who knew of the planet’s importance to his family was dead.

The knowledge of his loneliness sat heavy in his stomach.

He knew he was just Ben Solo, now. His father forgave him, reclaimed him, even if it was just in Ben’s memories. The rest of his heritage, well, he took the horrible silence when he climbed out of the pit and when he cradled Rey’s lifeless body in his arms, searching for help, as the rebuke it was. They didn't help him, and worse, they didn't help _her_. That was unforgivable.

Months passed. He didn't smile much, only offered it to small children who liked to pull on his pant leg and ask him how tall he was and if he would let them ride on his shoulders. Either a parent would interrupt before Ben could say ‘no’ or he would manage to state a refusal. The disappointment that would inevitably paint the child’s face would always tug at his chest. It felt like he glimpsed into a future that he was denied, or that he denied himself. He wasn’t a monster anymore, but he wasn’t quite a man.

His body still ached, but he knew he would live with that until he died. The Force, however, was blissfully quiet. It yanked at him on occasion with the same strength as a curious child, but it was never enough to garner much attention. To call to the Force meant to make himself known it, to become known to _her_. She couldn't know where he was.

She lived her life with her Resistance friends. She was rebuilding the galaxy: a noble cause he would only undercut by his very existence in her life.

He didn't meditate, which was a difficult habit to break. Instead, he slept, night after night, and tried to pretend that the hole in his chest had been filled by his newly-found freedom. Nightmares often found him, but it was nothing he wasn’t already used to. He still thought of her, how she smiled at him when she gave him the lightsaber, how she fought with grace and ferocity. He touched himself to the thought of her and of a thousand alternate futures with her. It brought sorrow and pleasure in equal parts and he knew he deserved it.

The change of seasons didn't help much in trying to forget the last Jedi. The rain reminded him too much of her and watching her blissfully collect rainwater in her hands on Ahch-To. She had spat and yelled at him, but he couldn't help but remember it with fondness. Their minds had connected as if they were made for each other.

Memories and the drafty chill that permeated his apartment kept him awake at night. When the storms came, the happy memories disappeared. Lightning flashed and he could only remember Snoke. Even in death, the monster still haunted him.

The sense of unease followed him for days. His normally steady hands jittered over utensils and plates. Something was wrong, even though the last bastions of the Final Order were destroyed and all the Knights of Ren dead. His heart pounded throughout his long shift in the restaurant. The voices of the cooks, the servers, the customers, grated on his nerves.

It was as if he was back during his first years with Snoke in his head. Ben Solo, young and isolated, had been prone to lashing out when the voice in his head became too loud and too angry. Someone was always peering over his shoulder, ready to pounce the moment he let his guard down.

He wanted to go back to his drafty, lonely apartment and die in his bed, but he gritted his teeth and carried on. The tips were terrible, as he couldn't be bothered to influence any of the customers and he did the bare minimum to make sure he didn't get fired.

Ben was carrying a tray full of dirty dishes into the back when a shock of pain hit him. His whole body jolted with a gasp and the tray tumbled out of his arms and stuck the ground with a horrible smash.

“What is wrong with you?” someone yelled. It could have been the owner or his fellow server. He didn't know.

Ben was silent, groping at his chest as his heart threatened to burst from his ribcage. Blood rushed in his ears.

“You sick or what?”

“No. I just…I need a moment,” he muttered.

He stumbled out the back and into the chilly evening air. Something had happened, a change in the Force so strong that he could feel it, but he didn't know what it was. The ringing in his ears turned to a roaring.

Something pulled at his chest as the roar dropped to blissful silence. His vision narrowed to one scene, painfully far away and so blissfully close. He could see _her_.

It was like nothing had changed. It was like _everything_ had changed.

She had the same pallor that haunted him since Exegol, but this time, her face gleamed with sweat, and hair was loose, tangled and sticking to her skin. Her mouth hung open as she gasped for breath. There was blood, her blood, speckling her lower half.

The image was hazy, not like all of the other times their minds were bridged.

“How did this happen?” he wondered aloud.

It was too clear to be a nightmare. He had learned to distinguish his nightmares from reality. It had been almost a year since they had connected through the bond. Palpatine’s power had been very final in cutting their so-called dyad in two, permanently separating their minds. This shouldn’t have been possible, and yet, he could see her.

Someone made her bleed and he wanted to get his hands on them.

Rey didn't seem to sense him. Instead, her gaze was trained away from him, watching something with intent. She had instantly known that they were connected as soon as it happened before Exegol. He could never sneak up on her, but she was clearly distracted now.

It was only her in the blankness of his mind until he noticed that there was someone else with them. Ben immediately wanted to lash out and cut off the intruder. There could only be two, no more, no less.

His mind found the stranger’s and, instantly, the anger cooled and was replaced by shock. This wasn’t a purposeful malevolence, a willing intrusion, but an aimless wandering, as if the stranger had just haplessly ended up in their heads.

The presence lingered, immaterial, before it finally coalesced to an image, a third point of life that rested between them without a care.

Ben felt the ground shift under his feet as he took in small, soft features.

A child?

His mind repeated it, over and over.

The child, his visage clear as could be, had dark hair and a presence in the Force as bright as a star. A newborn, just brought into the world. Rey’s child.

Ben jolted as the boy, a _boy_ , opened his mouth and gave a loud cry. He screamed and screamed and Ben couldn't hope. He didn't dare hope.

“Your child?” he whispered.

Rey’s gaze snapped to him, as if suddenly realizing that he was there, shock and grief and anger shifting in her expression.

Ben opened his mouth to say something, anything. His brain had stalled, torn between her suffering and the crying child. It had been a hard labor. He now understood the strain on her face and the lingering pangs of pain that he shared with her.

“No! Stars above, it’s a trick!” Rey wailed.

Her grief rolled over him like a wave and brought tears prickling at his eyes.

“Rey, I’m here,” Ben gasped. He reached out for her, though he knew he couldn't touch her. Unlike the times they had connected before, a chasm lay between them.

Tears spilled down her face and he yearned to wipe them away. Instead, he flinched away when her gaze hardened.

“I thought you were dead!” she yelled. “Where were you?”

Ben staggered with the force of her anger, his head hitting the wall so hard that he almost lost consciousness.

The boy screamed louder, almost drowning out Rey’s demand: “Answer me!”

“I—,” he gasped. “I don't understand. The bond had been severed.”

This had to be a trick. The child, Rey, it all was too perfect. These two occupied his mind as if these were meant to be there.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I’m—I’m on Naboo.”

The answer came, unchecked. They had stood together against Palpatine and she wanted to take Ben’s hand. Were her feelings the same, even after months of believing he was dead? Would she kill him, despite all that they did for each other? Or would she send her Resistance friends to do the job for her?

He couldn't care all that much. He lived a shadow of a life; death was almost welcomed.

“The child?” he sputtered. “Who—who’s?” He couldn't make himself finish the question, but the meaning was plain enough.

Rey’s face flamed in a blush. The child wailed again and Ben watched as he was set on Rey’s chest. Her embarrassment, her lack of an answer, disappeared as she watched her child curl against her.

Ben’s eyes were glued to him as well. He couldn't help but feel grief and jealousy rise in tandem. Ben hadn’t touched her, even when his body wept for her. The boy’s skin was still ruddy from birth and his eyes were squeezed shut, but something told him that he would have pale skin and Rey’s eyes.

There were now a million lost moments and a lost future laid out in front of him.

“I don’t know,” Rey said.

He didn't believe her. She would know who the father was. Unless…

Ben rasped, “Rey, where are you?”

He wanted to find her. He wanted to get away from this beautiful prison and find her and her child. There was some deeper power here that neither of them understood. He still didn't hope, but he had to see them.

Her throat worked around emotion.

“I—,” she started.

The vision crashed into nothingness almost instantly, leaving him alone in the alleyway. Ben sucked in a shuddering breath.

Ben completed the last hour of his shift in a haze, just barely able to hang onto his employment status before wandering home. He dropped into a meditative pose the moment the door shut behind him at his apartment.

It still didn't quite feel real. He couldn't find Rey’s mind or the child’s mind to connect with them again; they were closed off to him.

Perhaps that was how Rey wanted it. Maybe she was rejecting him, her anger with him leaving her too much to bear. He did deserve it, after all.

It felt like he sat there for hours, without the will to stand and at least wallow in his loneliness in the relative comfort of his bed.

Ben’s breath hitched in his chest as that sensation tugged at his chest again. There was no pain, only a sudden exhilaration.

He was going to see them again.

The excitement was slightly diminished as Rey’s image formed before him, and she regarded him with a blank stare. She looked better, though the dark shadows still lingered. Someone had wiped the sweat from her face and brushed her hair.

He couldn't read her; all he could feel was a strange contentment that he knew wasn’t hers. No, that came from the child in her arms. His image formed in tandem with his mother, as if it was natural for him to join them.

“I’m sorry I couldn't answer your question. He fell asleep,” Rey said flatly. The boy kicked and wriggled in her arms.

“What do you mean?” Ben asked, transfixed.

“I mean, he’s the one connecting us. He can’t do that if he sleeps.”

The implications of it all landed like stones in his stomach. Slowly, the mystery of this child was becoming more and more clear.

“He’s the bridge now,” he murmured.

This was _their_ child, through some machination of the Force. And this child was strong enough in the Force to be a bridge between his parents’ minds.

The thought terrified him, but he knew that the child was in good hands. Palpatine was dead. Snoke was dead. There wouldn’t be any voices in his head, influencing him to turn from his family. Ben wouldn’t allow it and he could already see a future of holding the boy when he was scared or angry. Ben would be there for him.

“Does he have a name?” he asked, heart in his throat.

Rey’s eyes fell somewhere to her left. The apathy in her expression shattered something between humor and grief.

“I was going to name him Ben, in honor of you. But, now that you’re alive, I—I’m out of options.”

That hit like a physical blow. He didn't want to cry in front of her, but his vision was too blurry and full of tears for him to pretend that he wasn’t crying. He smiled as a tear dribbled down his cheek. His lungs felt like they were full of cotton.

She was going to name her son after him?

“I’m honored,” he mumbled. “But that was really the best you could do? Name him after a cursed, dead man?”

“After a hero. After the man who saved his mother’s life,” Rey snapped.

A foreign grief drifted in the bond and the boy fussed in Rey’s arms.

There had been no body to bury and his presence in the Force had been effectively snuffed out. Rey had wept for a long time for him, even more so when the truth of her pregnancy came to light.

Ben couldn't help but feel the guilt rise like poison in his throat. These were the consequences of leaving Exegol and hiding himself away. He likely would have caused her less suffering if he had stayed. He had regained some of his humanity on Naboo, but the cost was too high.

As if to keep herself from looking at Ben, Rey busied herself with the boy, bringing a bottle to his mouth. She wasn’t breastfeeding, Ben noted. He wasn’t sure if that was personal preference or if she simply couldn’t. He didn't have the courage to ask. Not yet, at least. He still wasn’t sure if he had the right to even look at her, much less inquire about her parenting skills.

“I want to meet you on Naboo,” Rey mused.

He shook his head. The thought of her and the child in this cramped apartment was repulsive. She, _they_ deserved better than that. “No. You are recovering and shouldn’t be travelling. I will come to you.”

She pouted. “I’ve always wanted to go to Naboo though.”

The idea of a little house next to a lake, a memory both his and something very distant from him, flashed through his mind. He would take her there, later, when they were reunited. The promise was on his lips but he swallowed it back.

“Rey, please. Where are you?”

The mistrust that drifted across her face struck sharper and deeper than he liked. For a moment, he was sure that she wouldn’t answer and leave him to search for her. It would be a fair bargain for what he did to her.

His shoulders sagged with relief when finally she answered: “Cloud City.”

“I will be there,” Ben said, tone allowing no argument.

Rey opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, before her jaw clicked shut.

“Will I be killed the moment I set foot on Bespin?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don't know. I told some people about what happened on Exegol, but the average person won’t let you live if they know who you are.”

Fair enough, though the idea of her confiding in her friends grated on his nerves. Ben wasn’t going to pretend that the nine months since Exegol would soften anyone’s feelings towards the former Supreme Leader. He couldn't risk waltzing into the New Republic’s most recent bastion without some kind of cover.

“I’ll steal an identity and a ship,” Ben said, almost breathless, already thinking of where he could find someone with the connections to get him off-world in Naboo's underbelly.

“You’re coming back?” Rey murmured.

 _To me._ That hung in the air between them, unsaid.

“Yes.”

She nodded. Her chin shook with barely repressed emotion.

They were going to collapse when they saw each other. Ben already knew that for a fact. This was what happened when a dyad was separated: misery and pain until the two halves were reunited.

“You’ll keep—keep our boy safe ‘til I get there?”

The words were out of his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. If she was offended by the use of ‘our’, she didn't show it. Instead, her expression crumpled for a moment before she schooled it.

The boy cooed in her arms, and slowly, the edges around the vision became frayed and foggy.

“He’s sleepy,” Rey said. Her voice sounded far away.

“I will see you soon,” Ben replied.

He looked at Rey as he said the words, but he spoke to them both.

* * *

Ben left Naboo in a flurry. He left a curt message to the restaurant that he wouldn’t be returning, stole his deposit back from the landlord, and took the next transport to Bespin. He kept a hood over his head and called the Force to let his image slip from people’s minds as soon as they saw him.

When he set foot on Cloud City, he inhaled loudly through his mouth. It felt familiar, like a reminder of happier times, but it felt very far away. He remembered visiting with Lando when he was a boy. The Rebellion leader let him ride on his shoulders and gave him as many sweets as he liked. Those times were far away. That young Ben Solo would be almost unrecognizable.

He could feel her presence and it seeped into his bones as he walked along the familiar, yet unfamiliar halls. It was as if she had never left the corner she occupied in his mind. It felt like coming home.

He wandered to a dark corner in a courtyard, unseen to the Resistance personnel and Cloud City residents.

They reached out to each other. It wasn’t the same as the bond, but it felt just as visceral. The child didn't join them in this deep sense of awareness of each other. It was their own: dyad reunited. He wanted to run and search, but he could sense her urging: _no, stay where you are_. She would be able to find him, even in the labyrinth that was Cloud City.

Ben waited and his stomach churned in anticipation. He couldn't help the audible gasp when he saw her.

Every time he laid eyes on her, every time his mind conjured her memory, he was amazed at how beautiful she was. She looked more frail and tired, as if she had carried Exegol on her shoulders since that fateful day, but Ben found himself awestruck all the same.

He wanted to shield her, though he knew she could take care of herself. She had lived without him; she could live again. He just…didn't want to live his own life without her.

He wanted to kiss her the moment she was within arm’s reach. The robes she wore were loose and flowing and he wanted to grab onto her sleeve to pull her closer.

“The boy?” he asked instead.

He had waited for so long, but Force save him, he didn't know the child’s _name_.

“In the nursery, sleeping,” she said.

It pained her to be away from him, that much was clear. Her spirit ached for the both of them, to be near to both him and the child.

“Have you named him yet?”

He had thought about it the whole journey to Bespin. Nothing had sounded right in his mind. He didn't even have the right to name him.

Rey shrugged. “I floated a couple of ideas to Rose. Everyone else was extraordinarily unhelpful.”

“Is that so?” Ben couldn't help but smile.

She stepped closer before the smile could fade from his face, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek, eyes wide in surprise.

“I don't think I’ve ever seen you smile like that,” she whispered.

The smile had softened from shock at the contact, but it still lingered. He leaned slightly into her touch and his eyes fluttered for a moment.

“I’m happy,” he replied. The fingers curled against his skin, just a touch. He found the courage to turn into her hand, just enough to brush his lips to the side of it. “I missed you. Every day, I missed you.”

“Why did you leave?”

The words were quiet, but he could hear the accusation beyond it. After everything, she didn't deserve to be abandoned again. Her parents, no matter what their motive, sold her as a slave. Her masters abandoned her in death.

“I didn't deserve a future, much less one with you in it. Somehow, I would muck it all up.”

Her thumb stroked over his cheek. In that touch, he could feel the fear and uncertainty and loneliness that had dogged her since Exegol. Though surrounded by friends, she was alone in her pregnancy, and the child was a symbol of Ben and how she had lost him.

The overwhelming grief almost bowled him over, but Rey’s hand was firm where she cupped his cheek.

“You are a fool, Ben Solo,” she whispered.

The lashing, verbal or otherwise, didn't come.

Instead, the hand dropped to his shoulder and fisted the cloth there. Ben watched her face in surprise as a thousand thoughts seemed to pass over her, landing on something akin to determination.

She stepped closer and bounced onto her toes, gently pressing her lips to his.

Ben startled at the contact, recovering as one hand flew to her waist and the other cupped the back of her neck. Her hair was soft as it cascaded down her back.

Ben shook against her and Rey suddenly surged forward. Her hands grabbed handfuls of his jacket as she backed him up into the wall, her lips consuming his.

“Rey,” he breathed against her mouth, kissing her back with the same ferocity.

“Damn you, damn you,” she whispered. “ _Ben_.”

She pulled away with an obscenely wet sound and it was just as startling as the kiss.

“This isn’t the time or place,” she said, still close enough to breathe his air. He wanted to consume her. Every fiber of him wanted to touch and hold. The reality of the people surrounding them, the child awaiting them, cooled the passion, if for a moment.

“I want to see him. The boy,” Ben gasped.

He couldn't say ‘ _son’_. The truth, what might be the truth, hadn’t quite settled in yet. The word would make it too real.

Rey took his hand. “Yes. Let’s meet _our_ boy.”

Ben sagged at the emphasis. At least, she invited him in. She didn't reject him, though he had been absent for so long. Rey lead him away from the courtyard and into one of the many splitting hallways. It reminded him of the past that was far away from him now, bittersweet and disorienting.

“Come on.”

Ben followed her, but he left like he was floating outside of his body. This was the future, the very thing that he was terrified of. His vision blurred and his heart pounded in his ears. He barely had enough forethought to hide himself.

Rey pulled his hood over his head, almost covering his eyes with it. If she was concerned by the panicky expression likely plastered over his face, she didn't notice.

It didn't end, not until the doors to her quarters closed behind them and she pulled a bundle from a little bassinet.

When he held the child, his child, their child, something like peace stole over him. The child had wispy black hair and prominent ears and freckled skin. This was the gift, the result of the dyad sharing in each other’s energy. Perhaps this had begun when she healed him on the Death Star ruins, or was it only awakened when he breathed life back into her. He didn’t mean for it to go that far, he didn't even know it was possible.

The legacy of death and sorrow was over.

His presence in the Force was muted as he slept. Something told Ben that he was going to be a little terror once he was able to walk.

“Dima,” Ben murmured.

“What?”

Ben shrunk a little under her inquisitive glance. To be so close to them was to feel a strange sort of pain. It was hard to think coherently, but he choked out, “I like the name Dima. I, uh, heard it while walking around Theed.”

It was almost too perfect. The son of Skywalker, Solo and Palpatine, named after some random person in the streets.

Rey hovered next to him, resting her head against his arm. “Hm. I like it. Less pretentious than other suggestions. _Victor_ was floating around for a while.”

He laughed, though he would be lying if he said he didn't think of the same name. Every child born in the next decade was going to be named that, variations of it in millions of languages.

“He has your eyes, doesn’t he?” Ben asked.

As if on cue, Dima’s face wrinkled as he squirmed in his father’s arms. Panicking a little, Ben rocked him, hoping that his first real interaction with his son wouldn’t be loud crying. Instead, Dima opened his eyes and stared up at Ben with a sleepy expression, as if to say _really, it took you this long to get here?_

Ben ducked down and kissed his forehead in apology. If Rey’s breath hitched where she stood beside him, he didn't acknowledge it.

He really did have her eyes and Ben’s ears. This was their son.

“I don’t think words could express how sorry I am for not being here for you both.”

Standing in that room made the regret even more palpable. Perhaps he had been right to hide himself from the public eye in this post-war galaxy, but it hadn’t been right for him to hide himself from her.

Rey’s hand landed on his shoulder, rubbing gentle circles.

“You have plenty of time to do that,” she replied.

Ben was okay with that. After many years, this was a task and a penance that he could embrace wholeheartedly.

“Do you want to hold him?” he asked.

He glanced over to see Rey shaking her head. Tears tracked down her face, but she still smiled.

“In a little bit,” she said. “I think he’s just fine where he is.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!  
> [Here’s my Tumblr! Feel free to follow or say hi!](https://tiaraofsapphires.tumblr.com/)  
> All feedback is appreciated! Comments/kudos feed me and definitely motivate me to write more stories!  
> Cheers!


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